


Everyone Has A Secret, But Can They Keep It?

by boltschick2612



Series: Everyone Has A Secret. [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Dallas Stars, First Time, M/M, Pittsburgh Penguins, Tampa Bay Lightning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 19:14:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boltschick2612/pseuds/boltschick2612
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Infatuation is a tricky thing....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyone Has A Secret, But Can They Keep It?

**Author's Note:**

> Set in 2007 when Ryan Malone still played for the Penguins and Mike Smith was a goalie for the Dallas Stars. The premise is these two have not met before and don't know anything about each other. I have had this idea of a pre-Lightning days Smith/Malone rattling around in my head for awhile, but kind of put it on the back burner until it solidified or something inspired me. Story made up and therefore not true.
> 
> Ryan Malone's thoughts are in italics, song lyrics are in bold.  
> Title and Lyrics taken from the song "Secret" by Maroon 5

2007

The locker room inside the Civic Arena was full of noise and boisterous conversations as the members of the Pittsburgh Penguins were preparing for their late afternoon game against the Dallas Stars. It was a Sunday afternoon, and while most of the team was still riding high from their win two days ago, Ryan Malone was sitting quietly in his stall away from the rest of the team.He didn't know what it was about today, couldn't put his finger on it, but something just felt...odd. Not right. He was so involved in his own little world that he completely tuned out his surroundings. He barely looked up when Malkin walked up to him and started talking.

"Hey Crasher...They play backup tonight. You got jokes for him?"

Malkin was referring to the fact that the Stars were starting their backup goalie that night, a relatively new kid named Mike Smith. Malkin had started calling his linemate 'Crasher' shortly after he really started paying attention to Ryan's style of play and noticed the fact that he took it as his personal duty to crash the net of the opposing team and try to get under the skin of their goalie with a few carefully timed insults. This tactic had worked in Malone's favor more times than he would remember, and it usually resulted in him stuffing in a dirty goal.

"You know you're the only one who calls me 'Crasher', right Geno?"

Ryan looks up from where he's sitting and offers Geno a slight smile before Sidney Crosby walks over to where the two are talking and looks down at Malone to speak. "You know Bugs, I heard that he lives with Turco...Do with that information what you will."

Malone looks up at Crosby with a sly smirk and mumbles something almost incomprehensible. "That's why we keep you around, Sid. Where would I get my intel without you?"

Crosby momentarily does Malone the dignity of looking hurt at his comment, even jutting out his lower lip in the saddest looking pout Malone had ever seen.

"Fine, I guess it's because you're kinda good at hockey." Malone breaks into a laugh for the first time all night, and the quite reserve is actually out of character for him, usually he's the one in the midst of the jovial conversations and horseplay.

Crosby and Malkin retreat to their own stalls to finish preparing for the game, leaving Malone alone in his stall with his thoughts. He knew he should probably be getting ready for the game, but he just couldn't seem to get up the motivation to move. He is slightly startled when Geno walks back over to him and kicks the bench he's sitting on 

"Come on, Crasher. Can't score if not on ice"

 

                                                                                                      -X-

 

It was towards the end of the first period and Ryan Malone found himself right in a place he knew so well...The opposing goalie's crease. The Stars had started their backup goalie, just as Malkin said they would. Malone really hadn't said much to the goalie through the first period, instead he just focused on trying to be right in the goalie's face at the right time...when he had the puck on his stick and was looking to put it in the back of the net. Ryan looked up ice and saw Malkin skating towards him along with Crosby, who had the puck on his stick and was coming towards the Stars net at full speed. Malone knew this was the perfect time to try and rattle the goalie.

"So, does Turco top or bottom?"

Malone continued to keep his gaze straight ahead, not looking behind him to the goalie that he had just insulted. Mike just laughs and concentrates on the puck that is swiftly making it's way towards his net on the stick of Sidney Crosby. He just mumbles his response, figuring an insult from some Pittsburgh punk wasn't even worth his time.

"That the best you could come up with? Weak sauce, man. Weak."

Before Ryan knew it, Crosby was right in front of him, passing him the puck in an attempt to have him stuff it in. The puck found Malone's stick and he quickly turned to face the goalie and....

Ryan is lost. Time seems to freeze as he locks eyes with the goalie and he becomes lost in eyes that seem to peer straight into his soul, eyes that seem to know exactly what is on Ryan's mind with one single look. He is lost and so entranced in those eyes that he doesn't even notice when Smith kicks his right leg out and sends the puck straight to a Stars defensemen, who then clears it out of the zone. He also didn't notice Crosby until he was in his face, nose to nose and yelling.

"What the hell, Bugsy? You had that!"

Ryan says nothing, just stands there stunned as Crosby skates away shaking his head.

 

                                                                                                       -X-

  

Malone sits in the locker room during the first intermission, mind still fixed on the young Stars goalie and his own fuck up that caused the team to be down by one goal. One goal that he could have made up, could have scored, if he hadn't been so busy staring transfixed into the eyes of a man he didn't even know.

The feeling of guilt quickly vanished as his mind wandered back to the calm serenity of Mike Smith's eyes. And just as quick as the guilt disappeared, it was replaced with another feeling...extreme confusion. Ryan's head was spinning as he tried to place a name to the feelings that were rising within him. He had never felt this way about anyone...Not his girlfriend or any of the many one night stands he enjoyed while on road trips, yet somehow he found himself infatuated with this man.

Infatuated. With a man. And that's where his mind started reeling. Was his job of trying to get into the opposing goalie's head making him feel some sort of odd connection? Was the mystery of only being able to see someone's eyes...those damn eyes...appealing to him? Ryan knew he wasn't even the type of person who notices people's eyes. He wasn't even sure if he knew the color of his girlfriend's eyes.....

 _What is it about those eyes_? _The thrill of the unknown?_

Ryan can't seem to shake the fact that he became so utterly lost in the eyes of some damn Canadian asshole who's sole job was to embarrass him and his team. He makes a mental pact with himself not to make the same mistake twice as he pushes himself up off the bench to make his way onto the ice for the second period.

 

                                                                                                -X-

  
All promises and mental pacts went to the wayside as soon as Malone found himself back in Mike Smith's crease during the second period. He thought that maybe, just maybe, if he could focus on his job of chirping at the goalie and intruding upon his space, that he could wipe his mind clean of the doubt and confusion that were plaguing him.

"Hey, Turco make you pay your rent in sex?"

 _Stupid. That one was just stupid_ _, Ryan. Didn't even make sense._

And almost as if the goalie could read Ryan's mind, he counters with a comeback while slightly pushing at Ryan to get him out of the way.

"Really? I would have thought Pittsburgh's Prodigal Son could come up with something better."

_Shit. This motherfucker seems to know a lot more about me than I do about him._

Ryan figured that it really wasn't a secret that he was born and raised in Pittsburgh and that his father also enjoyed a long career with the Penguins...but the fact that this man was demonstrating knowledge of Ryan's mere existence caused his heart to race.He had been trying to avoid looking in the goalie's direction all period, but he couldn't avoid it any longer as the play made it's way behind the net. His eyes follow the puck on it's path to the end boards and....

 _Shit. You did it_ _again. Even after you promised you wouldn't. Why do you need to keep doing this to yourself?_

Ryan silently skates away for shift change, glancing over his shoulder to sneak one last look into the eyes of Mike Smith.

 

                                                                                                     -X-  
  
  
  
Ryan didn't go home after the game. Instead he felt compelled to drive the Pittsburgh streets, unsure of exactly where he was going. He had the windows rolled down, feeling the cool breeze sweep across his skin. The radio was blaring a song that he had heard a million times before, but somehow the words flowing out of the speakers seem to speak to him now, perfectly mirroring the thoughts in his mind.

 **Our road is long,**  
 **Your hold is strong,**  
 **Please**   **don't ever let go, oh no.**

Ryan felt a force pulling his thoughts to the goalie, to Mike, and he tried his best to fight it.

 _Don't think of him by name. If he doesn't have a name...then it's not real._ _This can't be real. I can't let his hold on me be this strong._

Ryan knew he had to fight this. This wasn't who he was. He wasn't the type of person who let anyone get under his skin, good or bad. He was the one who usually got to people, not the other way around. Yet, fight as he might, he couldn't stop himself from wondering about Mike, and just what secrets might be contained in his soulful eyes.

**I know I don't know you,**   
**But I want you, so bad.**   
**Everyone has a secret,**   
**But can they keep it?**   
**Oh, no they can't.**

Without even realizing it, Ryan starts to steer his car towards the hotel that the Stars were staying at that night before heading back to Texas. A hurriedly placed phone call earlier in the night, after the game but before the media arrived, had given Ryan all the information he needed, including the room number where the team's backup goalie would be staying. Alone.

One of the benefits of being 'Pittsburgh's Prodigal Son' was that everyone was always bending over backwards to help him out, and the concierge at the hotel was no exception.

_Why do you even care where he's staying? You don't know him. And you don't want him....do you?_

**I'm driving fast now, don't think I know how to go slow.**

Almost as if he was taking a cue from the music filtering into the air, Ryan presses the gas peddle to the floor, accelerating to the destination that he still wasn't aware he was being drawn to.

_There's a word for what you are...._

And before Ryan can finish his own thought, another voice in his head breaks through.

_Yeah, there is. Intrigued. Infatuated._

**I ask you how hot can it get,**  
 **And as you wipe off beads of sweat** ,  **slowly you say**  " **I'm not there yet."**

Those words find the corners of Ryan's mind and before he can stop it, a scene is playing in his mind. A scene where Mike is hovering above him as he has him pressed face down into the mattress in the expensive hotel room, his naked body dripping with sweat as he leans down and whispers into Malone's ear. "I'm not there yet." Then he starts brushing his lips across the back of Malone's neck, the imagined seduction causing very real physical reactions.

In his mind, Ryan can see his own knuckles, tinted white as they are clenching the Egyptian Cotton sheets.  
He's so invested in this fantasy, that he doesn't realize that his knuckles really have turned white, but from gripping the steering wheel of his car in fear and not from gripping hotel room sheets in ecstasy.

_This isn't you. You don't know him. You don't want him._

 

                                                                                                            -X-

 

It had been 10 minutes since Ryan had parked his car in the hotel's parking garage, 15 minutes since he made his way inside, yet he still could hear the song echoing in his head.

 **I know I don't know you,**  
 **But I want you,**   **so bad.**

The words are still running through his mind as he stands in front of the door to room 2612, the one that the conceirge had informed him that Mike Smith would be staying in.

_No names, dammit. Then it's real. This can't be real. You're not intrigued. Not interested._

Even as he said it to himself, Ryan knew it wasn't true. If he wasn't interested, then he wouldn't be standing outside of Mike Smith's hotel room with his fist hanging in the air, debating if he should knock or retreat before he passed the point of no return.

**Everyone has a secret,**   
**But can they keep it?**

Ryan froze as he heard noises from inside the room that sounded like someone pacing across the carpet.  _What is he still doing awake? Why_ _do I even care?_ _Why am I here? Because I want to be with him? What would that even be like?_

_Knock on the door and find out._

He closes his eyes against the thoughts that are coming at him full force, but the image of Smith's eyes find him, haunt him.

_I have to find out....find out what it is about him....about his eyes...._

**Everyone has a secret,**   
**But can they keep it?**

**Oh, no they can't.**

 

                                                                                                     -X-

  
Mike Smith awoke to the sound of footsteps leading up to the door of his hotel room. He figured that the sounds would just keep right on going past his door...but they didn't.

"Who the hell....?" Mike murmured under his breath. He momentarily considered that it was probably just one of his team mates that needed something, but he dismissed that idea when it occurred to him that they would knock instead of just standing in front of his door. He threw back the covers and started to make his way to the door, then thought better of it. If it WAS a team mate, and something was dreadfully important, they would have knocked a long time ago. And if whatever it was wasn't important enough for them to knock....

Mike paced around the carpet for a few secounds, trying to decide if he should crawl back into bed or make his way to the door to see what was waiting for him on the other side.

Finally his curiosity got the better of him, and he shuffled towards the heavy steel door. When he got there, he stood on tip toes to peer through the peep hole. What he saw there surprised him, but he undid the deadbolt none the less.

Mike sucked in a deep breath and turned the handle, slowly breathing out as he inched the door open.....

 

                                                                                                         -X-

 

 _What the hell? I didn't knock on the door..._  
  
Ryan stood outside of hotel room 2612 of the Grand Oaks Hotel, looking at the door as it slowly crept open as if it were some other worldly thing. The face of Mike Smith materialized on the other side of the slowly opening door, and Ryan was taken aback by the sight of his face, the first he had seen it without the shield of his goalie mask. Seeing Mike's face now further tightened the hold that he had on Ryan's consciousness since earlier that evening.

"What do you want?" Mike asks without any semblance of familiarity or politeness.

_To turn around and run as fast as I can, but my feet won't let me._

Ryan's mind wasn't connecting with his mouth, and instead he stood there for a few seconds stuttering before letting out some meekly formed words. "I don't know...."

Mike let out an audible sigh and rolled his eyes in frustration. "Look, if you came here to fight me or something...just do it because I really need to get back to sleep."

Ryan stands there with his lips slightly parted, shocked by Mike's statement. "Wait...you think I came here to fight you?"

Mike just shrugs his shoulders and gives Ryan a nonchalant look. "I shut out your team and insulted you so....."

_Don't flatter yourself, asshole._

"No, that's not why...."

Ryan's explanation is cut short when the hall behind him is filled with the sound of a deadbolt being flipped and a doorhandle being turned. He turns to look behind him and doesn't see Mike lunge forward and roughly grab the front of his shirt. He whips his head around to look at Mike as he pulls him forward and into the hotel room, Ryan's shirt still clutched in his hand. Mike loosens his grip on Ryan and runs to the door and slams it shut, locking it before Mike Modano can make his way into the hallway through the recently opened door of his own hotel room. Ryan stands there staring at Mike with his heart pounding in his chest, breath coming out in short bursts.

_Did he really just drag me into his hotel room?_

_Well, that is what you wanted....isn't it?_

Mike sees the look of utter confusion on Ryan's face and figures he at least owes him some kind of explanation as to why he was thrust into the hotel room. "I didn't want him to see you. Didn't want anyone to know you were here."

A look of incredulity plays across Ryan's face, and he's almost certain the Mike doesn't even believe his own explanation.

_If he really thought I was here to fight him, then why does he care who sees me?_

After a few seconds staring at each other across the empty space of the quiet hotel room, Mike breaks the silence. "Are we done here, asshole? Because I'm really tired and you're wasting my time."

The intense desire to turn and run never was as strong in Ryan as it was at that moment. He scoffed at Mike and started to make his way towards the door, shaking his head.

_Why did I even come here?_

The image of Mike Smith's eyes and the intense look contained within them burned into Ryan's mind as he reached for the doorhandle.

_....You know exactly why you came here._

Ryan's whole demeanor visibly changes as a sly smirk plays across his face and he turns slowly to face Mike.

 _If he's gonna kick me out....without what I came for....I might as well_ _rile_   _him a little on_ _the way out._

"Is it a common thing for people to show up at your hotel to kick the shit out of you or something? Because let me tell you, given your personality, I can see why."

Mike narrows his eyes at Ryan, sizing him up. He really was in no mood for some prick to be standing in the middle of his hotel room, insulting him. Especially not when one of the other options on the list of things that could be going on right now included sleep. However, whatever inclination Mike felt to lay a swift punch to Ryan's jaw disappeared when that shit eating grin broke out across Ryan's face.

"Get the hell out." Mike starts to make his way towards the door and he knew that he probably should be a bit harsher on this man, this near stranger, but Mike knew that there was just...something...about Ryan.

Ryan doesn't move, just stands there for a moment, with a look on his face as if he was trying to think of an answer, as if what Mike had just uttered was a question instead of a command. "Umm.....No."

It all happened so fast, that Ryan wasn't even sure he saw Mike move from where he was standing by the door, he just knows that he suddenly feels Mike's hands grip his shoulders and push him backwards until his back meets the wall behind him with a solid thud. Mike has him pinning against the wall, and all he can do is stare into his eyes and watch the storm play itself out in the dark orbs. Ryan could see the anger flash in Mike's eyes, but there was something else, something just below the surface....desire?

"I said get the hell out." Mike never broke his gaze while speaking to Ryan in a venomous tone, never blinked.

"And I said no. You don't want me to leave. You're just as intrigued by me as I am by you. Admit it." Ryan tries to wriggle free of Mike's grip a little as he says this, but Mike has no intention of lessening his hold. When Ryan sees that Mike isn't going to let him move, he continues to speak.

"You are. Why else would you have opened the door in the first place?"

Mike says nothing, he knows he has no response, no words. He closes his eyes and presses his lips to Ryan's with such force and ferver that Ryan isn't sure if he is trying to hurt him or cause him pleasure. Ryan's eyes slide closed as Mike takes his lower lip in between his teeth and bites down ever so slightly. Mike breaks the kiss after a few seconds and loosens his grip on Ryan's shoulders, pushing himself away with his eyes downcast. Ryan can hear something that sounds like anger mixed with shame in Mike's voice as he speaks.

"I hate you for making me feel this way."

When Mike finally looks up and meets Ryan's eyes, Ryan is paralyzed by the look of desire and lust in Mike's eyes that he is making no attempt to hide. Mike grabs the front of Ryan's shirt again, and spins him towards the bed. He then pushes him backwards onto the bed and Ryan lands on his back with his legs hanging off the side of the bed, causing the mattress springs to creak under his weight. Ryan knew he wanted this, this was the whole reason he came here after all, but heart is still drumming out of his chest and his stomach knots. He never stopped to consider exactly what he would do should he make it to the hotel room and things actually went as planned...even though there really never was a "plan" to speak of. He just knew he had to look into Mike's eyes one more time, and that desire was what drove him here, almost running every red light along the way.

Mike slowly walked over to the bed and climbed on top of Ryan, his knees bracketing Ryan's hips. He then took both of Ryan's wrists and forced his hands above his head, pinning them to the bed before lowering himself to within an inch of his face. The close proximity caused Ryan's breath to hitch in his chest, and he finds it impossible to suck in enough air.

When Mike presses his lips to Ryan's this time, it is much different then the kiss he imposed upon him just a few moments earlier. This one was soft, sensuous and full of want. Mike pulled away and Ryan was so lost is his eyes that he almost didn't register that Mike was talking.

"I hate you for being right."

Mike slides down the side of the bed and comes to rest on the floor, kneeling and resting on his heels in front of where Ryan was half dangling off the bed. Without any words, Mike reaches up and fumbles for the button of Ryan's pants, hands shaking so bad that it takes him almost a full minute to pull the button from its spot and slide the zipper down. Ryan almost falls off the bed as he lifts his hips up to free himself from the rough denim jeans and lifts his shirt over his head at the same time. Mike sits up, putting his full weight on his knees, digging them into the rough carpet. It briefly registers in his mind how uncomfortable the brown burber carpet is underneath his knees, but he pushes the thought aside as he looks Ryan up and down, taking in the sight of his well toned body accentuated with tattoos across both shoulders.

As Mike decides that he can wait no longer and descends upon Ryan, taking the whole length of him into his mouth and draws lazy circles with his tongue, Ryan thinks to himself that this certainly doesn't feel like hate. It feels like longing, desire and curiosity, but not hate. A small moan escapes Ryan and he closes his eyes, letting his mind go to the image of Mike's eyes peering at him through the cage of his goalie mask. As he feels the tempo increase and the end rushing up on him, he decides that he's not ready for things to end yet and his voice fills the room as he finds the composure to force words out of his mouth.

"Get up here."

Mike immediately stops what he's doing and crawls back into his original position on the bed, knees on either side of Ryan's hips. Ryan instantly becomes fully aware of the fact that he is now naked and exposed, while the man that was just using his mouth to make him moan was not.

"This just won't do."

Mike doesn't even ask what Ryan may be referring to, he just throws off his bathrobe without much effort and necessity to move from his position, revealing nothing but bare skin underneath.

"Mmm....I want you inside me...now," Mike moans as he positions himself upon Ryan, and Ryan stares transfixed into the dark pools of Mike's eyes as he thrusts to enter him, watching the emotions play across his face and the lightning flash in this eyes. The sensation is almost too much at first, and they both fight for air, faces so close that they're almost breathing the same breath. Ryan fights to keep his eyes open so that he can stare into Mike's, but he can't help but let them slide close with each slowly paced thrust. As he feels himself getting closer and closer to the edge, he forces himself to speak, and the command is almost as much for himself as it is for Mike.

"Open your eyes."

Mike's eye flutter open and he locks eyes with the man across from him, and in that moment it feels to him as though they became one body, and Mike couldn't hold back any longer and his world explodes as bright colors fill his retinas and the heat spreads through his chest. Seeing and feelings Mike's own exquisite release sends Ryan over the edge and he rides the waves of ecstasy, crumpling the expensive hotel sheets in his hands as he did so, just as he imagined he would.

Mike slides to lay beside Ryan on the bed, wrapping his arm around his waist and Ryan turns to whisper into Mike's ear. "You don't really hate me."

Mike simply lets out a small laugh and a smile creeps across his face before he whispers his reply.

"No one likes a know-it-all."

Ryan's eyes slide closed as exhaustion overtakes him, and Mike turns to head to steal a glance at the man that was laying naked and sated in the bed of his hotel room. Mike was almost certain that when he awoke the next morning, that he would find that same bed cold and empty, but for right now he was just content to enjoy the moment and the man sleeping next to him.


End file.
